THE JOURNEY OF GRIEF

Last week I made the point that when encountering grief - yours or somebody else's journey through the natural, normal response to loss in our everyday lives - it is important to remember that the suffering and sorrow of grief is a long journey when the loss is something of great meaning: a close family member, one's health - or a even a career.

What often makes the journey more difficult is our cultural discomfort with grief. 

We don't like to acknowledge or accept loss of any kind. Especially death. Even though it sounds ridiculous, if we were to admit it, most of us believe in the depths of our hearts that we will not die. If I eat healthy and exercise I won't die. If I stop smoking I won't die. Ever. The everyday encounter with death is a great shock to us - there's a sense of failure about it. 

That's why most people aren't given the time they need to grieve. There's an expectation that it should be over and done with in days - or weeks at the most. Friends and relatives don't like to be around grieving people - they're a downer. (Get over it.) Or the the grieving person is a source of worry - maybe they're getting depressed ... or they won't be able to cope. (What'll happen then?) 

A grieving person is evidence before our eyes that we can't always feel good - that the ideal of perpetual, unrelenting happiness is an illusion. Unless, of course the meaning of happiness is expanded to include the reality of loss and the response to it. But that's not something we like to consider - sadness, pain and sorrow as part of happiness? That's an oxymoron if ever there was one. 

Anything other than a feel-good definition of happiness doesn't make sense to us. In the face of grief and the grieving person (including ourselves) we find ourselves needing distraction, cheering up, mood-altering. The idea of acknowledging our pain, allowing it to run its course - of somehow befriending it, talking about it and feeling the loss deeply, strikes most of us as morbid. 

But therein lies the paradox. The way to transcend the experience of grief is directly through it. We have to undertake the journey, and most of us are too afraid. 

Death is part of life. And it must be given respectful attention.

Consider the analogy of a wound - say your arm is cut. There are a few possible responses: one is to make sure it is kept clean and covered with proper bandages. You pay attention to it - clean and change the dressings as needed. Pretty soon it begins to heal. The bleeding stops. The pain diminishes as a scab covers the wound over. If you guard it from further injury, with time the wound heals. You may be left with a scar, and on certain days, years later, there may be a flare-up of pain. Maybe a change in temperature will cause it to ache briefly for the rest of your life. 

Another way to respond to being cut is to slap a moleskin over the wound and ignore it. You pretend its not there and carry on as if nothing has happened. Of course we know that the result will be a festering, infected sore that will cause no end of problems down the road. The wound, if ignored and not tended properly, will become a threat to your long term happiness - maybe even your life. 

You cannot avoid grief. Sooner or later you will have to go through it. 

Grieving people have taught me a lot. I remember a lady many years ago who came to see me for counselling after her husband of fifty-something years had recently died. She was calm and sad. We talked about her husband and the long life they had shared - happily - together. She reminisced in affectionate tones. Sometimes she cried softly.

Then in one of the sessions she said something very important, and it's stayed with me ever since. 

Out of the blue she said, "Y'know I'm sad that my husband has died and I miss him very much. But I don't feel a lot of pain about it. We had a good life together and we loved each other. What I'm finding really hard to deal with in all this are the feelings that are coming up for me over a baby I lost over forty years ago. They didn't let me hold her, I didn't even see her. She was a still-birth and they took her away immediately. The biggest thing I remember was my mother saying to me, 'Don't let your husband see how upset you are'. I stuffed it down and left the feelings behind. Now they're coming up ... it's very hard ..." 

Grief is a complicated subject, as are most things about the human experience. But hopefully I've made my point that there two simple things that must be acknowledged and accepted about the journey if grief is to be transcended and a new relationship with the relationship that has been lost is to be transformed.

Those two things are: time and attention. 

GRIEF: THE SORROW THAT CAN LEAD TO NEW LIFE

SORROW PREPARES YOU FOR JOY.

IT VIOLENTLY SWEEPS EVERYTHING OUT OF YOUR HOUSE, SO THAT NEW JOY CAN FIND SPACE TO ENTER.

IT SHAKES THE YELLOW LEAVES FROM THE BOUGH OF YOUR HEART, SO THAT FRESH GREEN LEAVES CAN GROW IN THEIR PLACE.

IT PULLS UP THE ROTTEN ROOTS SO THAT NEW ROOTS HIDDEN BENEATH HAVE ROOM TO GROW.

WHATEVER SORROW SHAKES FROM YOUR HEART, FAR BETTER THINGS WILL TAKE THEIR PLACE.

(RUMI)

Another word for sorrow, is grief.

Here's a few things I've learned about grief over the years - my own and the grief I've encountered in the people I've supported (and learned from) as they worked through their grief. 

Grief is a natural, normal response to loss. 

Loss is a fact of everyday life. Life is about loss; how we encounter and deal with our life's losses has a major impact on the quality of our lives. 

It must be said again and again: grief is normal and natural. It is not a sickness. It is not something that needs to be treated medically. It makes me very sad to hear from people that they have been prescribed antidepressants when they are grieving. 

The suffering of grief is not the depression we want to call clinical. When we do that we are pathologizing the core of our human experience. 

The suffering of grief is about being human. It is about the depth of love. It doesn't need to be treated. Above all, grieving people need to know they are not alone and that there is a way through the pain of loss. They need to know their love and loss can be transformed into something new.   

At it's core, grief is relational. It is about meaning.

The depth of one's grief is directly proportional to the meaning one, perhaps unconsciously, has placed in the relationship that has been affected - the relationship that has been lost.

Here's what I mean by that. 

If I lose a cheap object - say a pen: my experience of grief is very short, maybe a few seconds. "Oh, I lost my pen. Where's another one?" There has been little or no meaning invested in my relationship with that pen.

But, if I lose a pen my children gave me for father's day - a unique, wooden, multicoloured ballpoint pen, chosen with care and love, my experience of loss is deeper. That pen had some meaning to me and my life. (You guessed it. I really did lose such a pen.) Of course I don't collapse into tears when I think about it, but thoughts and feelings of sorrow do come up - even years later, "I wonder what happened to that pen?" The experience of loss - of grief is a little deeper.

The same thing holds true with our relationships with people. The meaning of the relationship is directly proportional to the grief we feel at its loss. 

Say you're in a store. If you stop and look at the cashier for a few seconds just before you leave and say to yourself, "I may never see that person again." You probably won't feel very much in response to such a loss. the cashier may be a lovely, warm and giving person, but you haven't invested very much meaning in the relationship with him or her. You may feel a little pang in that moment as you encounter the loss that reveals the impermanence of our reality. But beyond that you'll most likely go on with your day without giving it another thought.

But the loss of a relationship of greater meaning - through death, or moving or .... any of the thousand other ways people are lost to us, can create pain of great suffering. It touches us at the deepest level of our being. It can make us feel like we may be losing our minds. It may even make us question the meaning of life itself. 

The deeper the meaning in the relationship, the deeper the pain of grief when the relationship is lost - and the longer the grieving lasts.

This the pain we dread. It is the pain of our existence.  

It is crucial to remember for yourself, or when trying to support someone you care about who is grieving: when a person is living through profound grief - the loss of a deeply important relationship - everything one does or thinks or feels is normal. (Grief is a normal response to loss.) There is no one 'right way' to do it - the only wrong way is to pretend it isn't there - or otherwise (consciously or unconsciously) not acknowledge the pain.

Grief cannot be avoided. It can only be gone through - at some point.

The other thing that must be remembered is that the suffering and sorrow of grief is a long journey when the loss in one of great meaning: a close family member, one's health - or a even a career. (I'll write more about this next week, because it touches on our cultural discomfort with grief.)

One more thing before I stop: Earlier on I said life is about loss. It's true. 

But it's only half the story.

Life is also about wonder and awe and the excitement of anticipation - and all the other thousand experiences that bring us joy. 

The challenge we must acknowledge and face is that joy and sorrow are always with us as two sides of one reality. They complete one another. There is no joy without sorrow. 

That is the truth that defines the word relationship. There are always at least two parts to it - two participants. 

It is also the truth of love and meaning. The greater the depth of love, the greater the joy. And the greater the sorrow at its loss.

To paraphrase Kahlil Gibran: When we love, we experience it's joy - and we laugh all our laughter. But when we love we also - cry all our tears. 

That is the fullness of life.

HOW WE BEGIN OUR DAY MAKES ALL THE DIFFERENCE

Most days, most people awake from sleep to the sound of an alarm. 

Some get up peacefully and happily - rested and energized, joyfully anticipating the challenges of the new day. Others get up under protest ... leaving sleep reluctantly and taking some time to allow the grogginess to dissipate. They may even feel full of fear with anxiety clutching at their throat or gut. 

For some, the day brings excitement. 

For others, the only thing that gets them up are the responsibilities they shoulder. And sometimes, even the demands of job and family aren't enough to get their heads out from under the covers. The bliss, the escape of unconsciousness will be their daily temptation. That is until guilt bids them into the world.    

You may be of the first type. If so, you are very lucky - some would say you are naturally skilled like a gifted athlete, musician or artist. You don't know why or how you are able to begin the day so positively. You just do. You may not need to read on. 

But for those of us of the second type, waking up and beginning our day requires some attention - some mindfulness - because it's not easy. 

But why not? Why isn't it easy and exciting for everybody? Who knows? It seems to me that it's a combination of factors including natural inclination based on temperament, the development of habits, circumstances - and, the old stand-by of western thinking - genetics. 

Waking up and getting up well may require some skill development. 

Here's why. 

Based on my own experience and what I hear from others, I'm becoming more convinced that how we wake up and begin our day has a great bearing on our happiness, our sense of well-being, our creativity and our productiveness. The first minutes of the day even have a bearing on the quality of our relationships.

The first few minutes of the day can determine the quality of the whole day. And, as Annie Dillard said, how we spend our days is how we spend our lives. 

Looking at it that way, those first few minutes are pretty important if the quality of your life is a value for you ... 

There are many ways of developing the skill of establishing a good beginning to our day

Recently I came across some advice that I really like and has been a big help to me. It's from a Tibetan lama, Tai Situ Rinpoche:

We should begin our day, with a very clear decision. 
And that should be: I will do one or two or three good things today - at least. 

And with that, if we start our day as a routine then it will stay in our mind.

Also, we should get up as early as possible.

How does it sound, if you have to say  - I have never seen the sun coming up?

It doesn't sound good.

Something is missing. Right?

So, nature is rising. The sun is rising. So you should rise.

And you should be able to see the sun rise. 

In order to do that, you should go to bed as early as possible - so that you can get up early.

These things are interdependent.

And when you get up with nature, the birds, the sun, the plants ... everything together ... then you feel you are part of the universe.

Sounds really simple and straightforward, maybe deceptively so. But experiencing and accepting oneself as a part of the universe is a powerful antidote to the death loneliness of an anxious morning.

You could add, as Rinpoche encourages, some prayers and meditation. 

Then, the day can unfold peacefully and with some serenity. 

FUNCTIONAL ALCOHOLIC and other euphemisms

First of all, here's a reminder of what a euphemism is.

The Oxford Dictionary defines a euphemism as a mild or indirect word or expression substituted for one considered to be too harsh or blunt when referring to something unpleasant or embarrassing.

Euphemisms lessen the impact of our language, and in so doing they can make difficult realities easier to bear. In some situations, we need to put things delicately - it's understandable I suppose (it's hard to say dead when we can say passed away).

Some euphemisms make things vague (adult entertainment) and acceptable (put to sleep), while others are obviously ridiculous (negative patient care outcome)  and funny (follicley challenged).

But sometimes euphemisms are used to sustain and deepen delusion. I was tempted to add 'create' delusion ... but, if you think about it, the reality being named by the euphemism usually creates the delusion, the euphemism (our use of language) collaborates with our attempt to deny the reality - and so sustains and deepens the delusion.

When we're talking about addiction euphemisms are everywhere and they reflect our attitudes toward the disease ....

imbibe

feel no pain

Some slide by unnoticed (like most euphemisms), others annoy ...

Two of my favourites in the annoying category are - functional alcoholic and substance abuse.

When I hear functioning alcoholic, I ask myself, what does it mean?  Does it mean "not quite an alcoholic", not a "full-blown alcoholic"?  Does it mean the person has a job, provides for others, holds positions of prestige, power and respectability? Does it mean that because of the above reasons the person needs to be cut some slack in our judgements? Of course it means all of these things. But ....

So-called functioning, or functional, alcoholics (read also functioning addicts) drive drunk, cause trauma, chaos and heartbreak in their relationships and families and die from the physical effects of alcohol and other drugs. They suffer all the negative consequences of the disease (aka alcoholism or addiction) because they are the face of the illness.

The fact is, there are very few so-called non-functioning alcoholics. Alcoholism (aka addiction, aka chemical dependency and so on) is an illness,  and whether or not a person  functions as he or she (and their family) succumbs to it is beside the point.

Functional alcoholic is a tragic, idiotic term that sustains and deepens delusion - which sustains and deepens the disease itself.

By the way, does the child who stiffens in fear when he or she hears the car door slam outside - signalling the arrival of a drunk and/or raging mom (or dad) - know that dad (or mom) is 'functional'? Would it make the child's road to his or her loss of self easier to bear? 

I'll save my thoughts on the ubiquitous euphemism substance abuse for next time.

WHAT IS ALCOHOLISM OR OTHER DRUG ADDICTION?

One of the really important things that complicates our basic understanding of addiction (aka chemical dependency or alcoholism) is distinguishing between what is normal use and when use becomes problematic ... and what people need to do when they finally accept that they have a problem - or their gut tells them someone they love or work with has a problem.

Of course we we know deep down when our, or someone else's, use of alcohol and other drugs  becomes a problem. We know by the problems they create - in relationships, work and careers, with the law, in physical and psychological health and spiritual well-being.

It is our individual and collective refusal to accept the evidence of reality that leaves us scratching our heads and wringing our hands as lives and families crumble in the grip of alcohol and other drugs. 

We use terms like "social use", "abuse" "recreational use" - and my favourite, "experimenting" - to identify our own or others' patterns of ingestion, which in the end are ways of sugar-coating reality. 

But to be fair, it is confusing because most adults drink alcohol and many people ingest drugs in reasonable ways - for a good purpose. 

Let's try and sort out how the use of alcohol and other drugs becomes problematic, and what that means, in practical terms, for our relationships. There is a continuum of ingestion: Use, Abuse and Dependence. 


USE:

Alcohol ingestion that is moderate ... or reasonable ingestion - for a purpose that can be described as beneficial. A couple of examples: drinking alcohol in moderate amounts that enhance the pleasure of a social situation, or taking a drug in regulated amounts and periods of time for the express purpose of say, relieving pain or other physical symptoms.  
The relationship a person has with alcohol is casual, and his or her relational focus is still person-to-person and not person-to-alcohol or other drugs. If you think about it, getting drunk or stoned is essentially anti-social, so when the person's relationship focus shifts to alcohol or other drugs the ingestion moves from use, to abuse.    


ABUSE:

When person ingests alcohol or other drugs in an unreasonable way, which is essentially harmful. This causes problems directly related to their ingestion of alcohol or other drugs - such as arguments with family and friends about their drinking, binge drinking (defined as 4 or more drinks for women and 5 or more drinks for men on any one occasion), blackouts, lying about how much they’re drinking, driving while under the influence, work or school performance problems, arrests, unplanned or unprotected sex — in other words, doing things they just would not do if they hadn’t been drinking.

In relational terms, the person abusing alcohol or other drugs is in process of shifting from a casual to a committed relationship with them. It is still possible to return to a relational focus of person-to-person, but he or she is sliding into a person-to alcohol or other drugs commitment.

Abusive ingestion patterns can be changed. A person can step back from their problematic ingestion and return to reasonable use.

All addicts (chemically dependent people) go through the abuse stage of ingestion. but not all alcohol or other drug abusers become addicts.


DEPENDENCE:  

Addiction (aka alcoholism) is a chronic, relapsing brain disease caused by biological, environmental and developmental factors.

It occurs when a person’s alcohol or other drug abuse causes chemical and structural changes in their brain (by interrupting normal neural connections), which sets up the characteristics of addiction:  increased tolerance, cravings and loss of control. A person with the disease suffers the same, and more, consequences as the person abusing alcohol or other drugs.

It can also be viewed as a relational and spiritual disease .

In relational terms, the person's primary concern is the person-to- alcohol or other drug relationship. All other relationships become secondary, because of the commitment a person makes to their drug(s) of choice. This commitment is obsessive and compulsive. It is total self-surrender of the whole person to the relationship with alcohol or other drugs. 

The disease of addiction (aka Chemical Dependency or Alcoholism) cannot be cured (meaning you can not go back to drinking after a period of time of abstinence), but it can be treated.